


Cheaters Keepers

by GreenJacks



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dysfunctional Relationships, M/M, Melancholy, Unhealthy Relationships, complex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 08:29:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10636128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenJacks/pseuds/GreenJacks
Summary: Joker plays a video game with Bruce.Bruce found it only a little funny why his nemesis was bad at shooting things in a game, when his precision with guns seemed to be the main thing that got on his nerves when they were doing clown business.





	

 

Joker will never win. He was bad at the game, worse than Alfred. That was saying something.

 

Bruce found it only a little funny why his nemesis was bad at shooting things in a game, when his precision with guns seemed to be the main thing that got on his nerves when they were doing clown business. For the eighth time, he sits on the sofa watching Joker fly an insult at the game over screen. It wasn’t like he was bad at hand eye co-ordination. The opposite actually, his reflexes were disturbing.

Bruce welcomed a second to wonder what exactly the problem could be.

Joker sprawled himself all over the rug, frustrated as he was. He kicks a cushion away, remembering, at least, to lose in the dignified way.

Noises come out of the speakers faster than the loading screen. It tended to do that, games these days. Bruce wasn’t a game person. The best he could put up with was chess, checkers, maybe. _Monopoly_ \- _well,_ he should experiment sometime. Alfred was fond of _Cluedo,_ so, who knows.

 

Round two starts, and within three seconds, Joker already released a bomb. Bruce was starting to adapt to this strange tactic, although half the time it didn’t really seem like Joker had any plans or strategy. He just ‘ _do_ ’ things. Things that make him wonder what the point of it was.

It was easy to see through it when it was in a game. Bruce wasn’t too sure if he should be happy about this. It wasn’t like Joker was trying to be predictable. After eight times pushing everything in the mechanics of the game, he was simply hitting a limit.

It’s easy to counter something unpredictable when everything you can ever un-predict was already out in the book in a secluded system. Then it becomes predictable. Bruce was good at protocols. It was the reason why he was winning, for the ninth time, now.

So Bruce wins. _Again_ , after rolling over Joker’s little digital avatar with a sports car. In a rather nonsensical way, it was dangerously real. He admits that using a mobile vehicle in a gun fight is a pretty _say-what_ degree in the moral protractor, but.

No, it’s not intentional. But his mind hates losing, there’s no telling why, or how.

 

Joker looked scandalized anyway.

_“You. Blatant. Cheater.”_

It wasn’t cheating. It was just utilizing the rules. At least, that was his excuse. Bruce had the audacity to look completely placid while Joker nudged his shins with the tips of his naked toes.

“That’s too accusatory for you to say.”

“Accusatory?” Joker growled back. Too lightly to sound upset. He wasn’t upset. Bruce can tell by the way he climbs back into the sofa, tucking his legs back under his own. He leaves their legs tangled together in the cushions, snuggling close to the cold warmth.

“And they call you a vigilante.”

They both stare aimlessly into the television. An angry red mark appears, and it spells game over. Joker is the first to let the game controller go, relaxing limply into the corner of Wayne’s sofa. He balled up, like a cat.

It’s amusing to see him curl up. For reasons Batman will never really get around to admitting for the rest of this strange, obscure life in each other’s company.

“I don’t love you as much, Bats, when you cheat.”

Bruce glanced to his right. He can see the greens meeting his blues, sideways and under. Joker stared back at him, hiding his face behind his folded elbows. The bigger man pulled a face.

“Half the reasons why I get so _mad_ at you, every time you do.”

“I didn’t cheat. It’s called innovation, resourcefulness.”

“See. You’re complimenting yourself again. _Yell bravo_ to the _mirror,_ would’ya? It’s called cheating, and you do it quite often too.”

Wayne has no idea why he felt the need to explain himself on this low logic, but he did. “There are big, clear differences you’re fine glossing over.” He muttered.

It makes Joker giggle. Something akin to amusement, it seemed. He shows fangs when he laughs outright into Wayne’s smug face, bolting up and pulling Bruce’s cheeks closer by the palms of his hands.

“What’s this?” The clown hissed. “Is Batsy-boo trying to _justify_ himself?”

“This is a pointless argument, Joker.”

“It’s not me you need to convince, darlin’.”

“How is it even cheating?”

Even though the conversation was a mess, he still felt that he had a right to ask genuine questions. The red lips smiling in front of him doesn’t plan on getting smaller any time soon. His fingers were cold. What a damn contradiction he was.

“I always set the rules for you. I design it so you can’t win, if you play by the rules.”

It’s always a bizarre feeling of course. Joker liked to push his limits. Sometimes he pushes too far, and that just gets him nowhere in everyone’s book.

But the rules, the rules are always straight and clear. Sure, _‘innovation’_. ‘ _Resourcefulness_ ’, as he liked to call it, _bah_. Joker laughs at his logic like it was a fraud that you could see so clearly that it was pathetically funny.

And he’ll laugh at it too.

 

“Your rules are nonsense.”

It’s an unfair argument for Bruce. His rules were ego-centric, maniacal, and it costs lives. He was getting the short end of the bargain, almost always. He once asked the green eyed snake, do the faces you have killed ever appear in your dreams, your thoughts?

And he answered, ‘ _yes’_ , because ‘ _sometimes they come back from the dead_.’

“Hmm.” Joker furrowed his brows. “You know, Bats. We’ve got to work on our veracity.”

Bruce felt sheepish. His cheeks were still cradled between the pale, long twigs that one could call fingers.

“You’re the one to say.” He retorted.

It made Joker laugh.

“I don’t understand.” Wayne muttered, still soggy on his sofa seat.

“You don’t understand a lot of things.” The clown replied.

“How winning can be cheating.”

 

They both stop talking after the last sentence. Mainly because they had no answer for the question that strangely sounded like an excuse. How _can_ winning be cheating? Bruce pondered on it, hard enough, until the screen blinks. And another game starts. Lifting his head away from the other's hands, he could see a finger pressing on the controller for a new stage.

His green ball of headaches doesn’t immediately spring up with an answer. In fact, he looks thoughtful, mildly disturbed, if one could tell. He doesn’t always have the answers. So he stays quiet, all the way until Bruce hits the continue button to skip the cut scene.

“Do you like losing?” Bruce asks.

Joker grunted. He flops down onto the seat beside him, hands back on the pad and buttons. “Not really.” He said.

“Then why don’t you cheat?”

“Brucie woosie, my ittie bittie sweetie.” He cackled, rolling out of their sofa. “I never once cheated with you. I do cheat.” The paler man mutters. “Just not with you.”

“The logic is flawed.”

“Bats. If I wanted to insignificantly destroy you, uncle Jokes would have done it a long time ago. But no, ‘winning’ is an idea. A grand thing too, a bit of a scam really.”

 _So I’m letting you win._ Joker finishes. He gives a pat on Wayne’s head, and a kiss on his cheeks.

 

They turn back to the screen. Another game starts.

Bruce cracked a sour smile under his breath just as the loading screen disappeared.

 

Maybe he’ll lose this time, who knows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
